I experiment with small, low-voltage electronics projects at a desk in Austin. I work in technical support and know how often a useful answer begins with a clear description of what happened. My hobby projects tend to be modest: indicators, buttons, desk objects and ideas that can be explored without turning the room into a laboratory.
Small Circuit Notes records the notes around a build as well as the build itself. I write about labels, organizing parts, naming an experiment and leaving a future version of myself enough information to continue. I enjoy precision but do not treat a messy first attempt as evidence that someone does not belong in a technical hobby.
My posts describe the scope of a project and keep potentially hazardous electrical work outside the subject of casual tutorials. Away from the desk I enjoy drawing, cooperative games and finding appropriately small boxes for objects that have outgrown their prototype.
A solderless breadboard replaces solder joints with spring contacts. Their pressure, wear and fit can alter a circuit, especially when current rises or a measurement needs precision.
A capacitor's printed value tells only part of the story. Its distance from a chip, and the return path through the board, decide how quickly it can help.
I wanted a little light that told me something at my desk. At no point did I feel a deep longing for another account, a new dashboard or a relationship with an unidentified cloud.
The answer was neatly formatted. The connections were described with confidence. The part on my desk had a marking that did not agree with the description. At that point the chatbot had lost its imaginary
The drawing was clear. The connections were clear. The little pile of wires on the desk had received neither of those documents and was behaving as a separate administrative department.
